The Passage
by FurryFeet
Summary: Gawain battles death in another world while his friends deal with not knowing.
1. Default Chapter

A cold wind brought a slight howling noise to the candlelit room. All of Arthur's knights were cramped inside. Gawain lay silently upon his own bed for it was his quarters that were filled with these men. He had not spoken for hours now. He was sick, violently sick. At least he _had_ been violently sick earlier but now he seemed to rest fitfully.

"He's not out of the woods yet." Bors said gruffly, after a long silence. Truthfully it was much more than even that. Gawain was far from consciousness.

Arthur was pacing the hall outside and was surprised by Galahad who came out of Gawain's room suddenly.

"Galahad, you frightened me." Arthur said with a faint laugh but he abandoned any attempt at encouraging the younger man. Galahad lowered his head in an obvious attempt to stop his tears. Placed his hand on his shoulder.

"I know this is a great trial for you Galahad. But give him tonight and we will know what to hope for tomorrow."

The silence was long and awkward and Arthur was unsure what kind of emotions where battling in Galahad's mind. He was still so young, slightly jaded yes, but young. Arthur heard him take a breath and it was long before he released it and when he did the tide of tears could not be suppressed.

Arthur rarely wept and when he did he was always quite alone. But he immediately reached out and brought Galahad to his chest. The cries of the young knight were raw and miserable in the cold and silent hall. The stones of the walls threw back the sound in heart wrenching clarity. Galahad could feel the warmth of his captain as he clenched his fists into his shirt. It reminded him of the comfort he had found in Gawain in the years past and the thought brought a fresh wave of hot tears.

Arthur found that his hands were vaguely clinging as well. He thought for a moment that this was how he would comfort his own children one day and a paternal feeling came over him.

"Galahad…" Arthur said softly, so softly that if anyone were around, even in the silence they would not have heard it muttered. Galahad found that he had never heard a more comforting rendition of his name.

"Nothing can stop death when it is approaching, not your anger, not your tears. But perhaps it is not imminent."

Galahad pushed himself away and looked up to Arthur.

"He is dying." Galahad's voice cracked noticeably and he swept a long sleeve over his wet face. Arthur kept hold on the young knight a brought one hand to Galahad's face.

"Galahad, look at me."

Galahad did and Arthur was hard pressed to think of another time he had seen such vulnerability in any eyes before. Perhaps in the helpless dying he had seen in battle but never in the blue windows of this certain friend.

"Gawain's fate is not sealed. The last thing he would want you to do would be to give up hope."

Galahad leaned once more upon Arthur's shoulder and looked to Gawain's closed door.

"I won't. But if he dies…"

Arthur wanted to desperately to say _he won't die_ but he didn't. The situation was truly dire. When Galahad failed to get another word of encouragement from Arthur, for there were no more to give, he backed away.

"Do you see? Even you are unsure."

"Galahad, we must have faith." Arthur reached out.

"No!" Galahad backed further away and swatted Arthur's gesture.

"_You_ have faith! Lancelot is right…" Galahad was quiet a moment as he watched the harm he had just inflicted run across his Captain's face.

"Your God does not hear your prayers." Galahad seethed. He was no longer able to stand and slumped down against the wall, lamenting many things but not regretting. No, he was right, he knew it.

Arthur found himself on the floor, the cold stone floor, before his knight, unrefined and no longer a Captain. He reached for Galahad cautiously and lifted his chin.

"Perhaps he would hear _your_ prayers."

Galahad's face was a mask of obstinacy. He would not be so week as to pray to the Roman's God, not even with Gawain…

Arthur saw this thought pass the Sarmatian's eyes.

"Ah, where are your priorities, knight?" Arthur said flatly.

"You either love your friend or you are proud. Which do you discern is more important?"

The moment was gone in a flash for the other knights were filing from Gawain's room and Tristan was herding them out himself. Everyone passed the two on the floor sadly and went about their evening duties in silence. Lancelot however passed with a concerned glance at Arthur and received no compliance with his silent request to stay.

Tristan stayed silent in the door way and Galahad looked up expectantly. Tristan only stared back a moment.

"You both should sleep." He said blankly and turned and closed the door behind him.

Galahad started to rise but Arthur held him down.

"Let Tristan stay with him a while. Go and sleep. He will wake us if there is any change." Arthur tried, but Galahad pushed him away and stood to walk to the door.

Arthur sighed, he was reluctant to _order _the young knight. Perhaps Tristan would take care of him. Arthur decided this was best and left for the common room, where he knew Lancelot was waiting for him. He did stop however one last time to see Galahad at the door, he could see that he and Tristan were conversing through it and he saw Galahad's shoulders fall and the silent stomp of his foot before he walked away to his own room.

Once inside his room, which was right next to Gawain's, Galahad didn't light a candle nor did he start a fire but only took an old blanket and wrapped it around himself. He then slid down the wall that separated Gawain from him and fell into a tear-induced sleep.


	2. Sir Gawain and the Demon

The Passage Chapter 2

Of Sir Gawain and the Demon

or

Between the Earth and Forever

The Problem

When Sir Gawain had been lying long ill, with an unknown malady, his fellow knights brought him to his own bed and called for every healer they could reach. His only rest for many days had been fevered and short. His sleep came only for fleeting moments at a time. When finally every able healer had examined him he fell into a much deeper sleep and since this was an extreme turn of events and no healer could cure him, his friends hung their heads and resigned themselves to accept his coming death. The closest of these friends and the youngest, Galahad found the concept of this passing unbearable and responded in the like with tears and much sorrow. In his misery, Galahad even quarreled needlessly with their Roman leader, Arthur. But Arthur, kind in heart and much aided by the mercy of his God, saw over Galahad's ramblings to the deep-seated sorrow within his heart. And so Arthur sought to comfort the youngest knight as they watched and waited for whatever fate might befall their friend, Sir Gawain.

Between the Worlds

When Gawain's world began to fade into darkness, he knew it was much more than sleep. The faces of his friends, the knights he had fought beside for years faded as the snow when spring sun appears. A fear gripped him unlike any he had yet encountered on the battlefield. He wondered as the darkness took him, if perhaps there was a way to fight death its self. Or was it a force that none could resist? In the moments it took to think these thoughts, Gawain felt himself floating slowly into a cold place. He opened his eyes within his unconsciousness for the first time to see blinding light and nothing but white surroundings. He was now lying on the ground, atop the snow that was newly fallen. There was a constant wind, dry and unforgiving to his face. The snow around him was nothing like the snow of Britain; it was dry and did not melt into water upon his warm skin. This snow was falling so fast that soon it covered his golden beard and hair. After moments of thought about his new surroundings, Gawain rose and looked about but saw nothing but blinding light yet again. He ached as the wind pierced him, almost as if he wasn't clothed at all. He was quiet and listened for a while but was surprised when he actually heard a voice calling his name.

"Gawain, Sir Gawain!" It came through the white in front of him. In a moment he saw a cart appear, pulled by a huge black draft horse, too big for the tiny job and a handsome man holding the reigns and calling out to him.

_This must be an angel. _Gawain thought happily as he waved to the man.

"I am here!" Gawain called.

The man in the cart was nicely dressed, his clothes seemed the richest that Gawain had ever seen. Certainly this was his Heavenly escort… but a cart? Gawain threw aside his negative thoughts and walked up to the cart and spoke to the man.

"What Heavenly being to I behold?" Gawain called happily.

"Heavenly? Heavenly Sir Knight!" The man laughed. "Are you a Christian man? I was told you were a Sarmatian, a heathen. A servant of… Rome."

"Now I am not sure exactly what I am." Gawain answered.

The man was silent a moment but then reached out a perfect hand to pull him onboard.

"Oh, never mind, you must come with me either way."

Gawain gladly took the hand and even the blanket he was offered as they rode on, but the blanket was full of holes and Gawain began to suspect the handsome man beside him.

"Are you no… an Angel?" Gawain finally asked, fear in his voice.

"Ah! If I am an Angel sir, I am an angel of darkness."


	3. Walls

As it happens, Gawain was instructed by Forsooth, for that was the demon's name to ride a way with him. Gawain saw no point in resisting. Whatever light that graced the unforgiving land was setting or disappearing, even though the source was not to be seen. It was becoming dark.

They had ridden a good while before Gawain brought himself to question the demon.

"Where has my death brought me?" Gawain finally asked, his face set in defiance. Forsooth turned and smiled a moment.

"You are not dead." He answered. "Your body is passing however. You are here..." Forsooth gestured around. " You are here to fight your final battles."

"What sort of battles?" Gawain asked, turning to look at the other.

"I'm not certain, but your eternity will depend upon your performance." Forsooth finally finished and drew his eyes back to the snow falling in front of him.

"Do not fret for your friends." Forsooth's voice suddenly cut through a thick silence that had fallen. "Yes, I see your thoughts. When we reach Dispair, for that is where we are going, you can see them. I have magics to speak of that will show you your old world." When Gawain looked at him in surprise, he took out his whip to hasten the old horse.

They arrived at a stone building, sparse and dark. The stones themselves looked to be weeping and distressed. Gawain was only just coming to terms with having his own thoughts read and was reminded of this frightening revelation every time Forsooth smirked or commented on what he had not said aloud. The demon took the blanket from Gawain's shoulder and Gawain shuddered at the sudden blast of cold, for the holey blanket had served its purpose to some exstent.

Inside and behind a locked door they stood a moment as they waited on light. Gawain could not tell how but soon many points of light appeared to be lit and continued until they seemed to disappear down a dark hallway before them.

"Ah, we can go on." Forsooth said and Gawain was surprised that the demon allowed him to walk alone behind him. _Perhaps he had eyes in the back of his head. _Gawain thought and then shook his head at the absurd thought, or was it? Either was he set about observing the dark walls on either side of him. Dark markings lined the stones, but they were barely visible to his eyes, almost like shadows. He couldn't make any of them out to be words or shapes; only lucid shadows that began to haunt his mind.

"Lost dreams." He heard Forsooth say.

"What?" Gawain asked, taken aback by his sudden words.

"The markings on the wall. Every lost dream of the tormented souls of Hell slithers about on these walls. Silly if you ask me, but it is a bit foreboding don't you think?"

Gawain didn't answer but had little time for as he pondered these new things he found himself suddenly behind a barred wall and left utterly alone.

Very soon the lights flickered out.


	4. He will hurt himself

The Passage Chapter 4

The Seeing Water

When the light was gone Gawain felt more afraid than he had ever been. He had been in total darkness before. He should not have been fearful, but he was. The light that had left, felt as though life its self had left him. The shadows he saw with aid from the light could now be felt rather than seen, gliding wistfully along the walls. Every so often one would glow and shapes appeared in the mists, a blue illumination of the smoky figures. He could not see them but for seconds at a time. He saw faces and scenes of happiness. He saw a mother and her child, smiling then disappearing into the darkness, a field of wheat blowing in the wind and a farmer standing there in the midst of it, all disappearing into the black. He found himself staring into darkness when the shapes extinguished themselves and felt that they flew away at the sound of Forsooth's return.

Gawain squinted and squeezed his eyes to adjust them to the coming torch of the demon. He could see the misty shapes becoming shadows again at the approach of the light. He was frightened to see Forsooth again, had he though it only a dream? It was not, he found as Forsooth inserted the key into the lock and entered his dark prison. He was holding a chalice filled to the brim with clear water but not overflowing.

"I have brought you drink, but this is not it." He laughed, seeing that Gawain eyed the water in his hands. "Your draught is much nastier." He finished and sat down and gestured for Gawain to do the same. Gawain did so. He watched the other bring the water in front of his face.

"Who is it you wish to see?" Forsooth asked evilly. Gawain was unnerved by the mere presence of the seemingly immortal being and felt even more frightened by his eyes on him. He thought a moment and slowly looked up. He bravely met the demon's eyes and spoke.

"Galahad." He said finally.

"That boy?" Forsooth laughed, surprised. "There's not anyone else you wish to see? A woman perhaps?" He said, rolling his brilliant but alarming blue eyes. Gawain held his gaze.

"It offends you that my request is not foul or impure. I am no Christian, but I know evil when I see it." Gawain said to him and he was surprised at his own words.

"You will see him." Forsooth said his voice for the first time angry. The water in the chalice began to quiver apart from Forsooth's hands. Gawain kept his eyes upon it and watched. Before a moment had passed, Gawain heard Galahad's voice and saw, finally, his face in the water.

"He is dying."

Galahad was crying.

"Galahad, look at me."

Arthur was there.

"Gawain's fate is not sealed. The last thing he would want you to do would be to give up hope."

Gawain nodded sadly. The image disappeared. Gawain was unable to hold back the tears after seeing his dearest friend so. Galahad was strong but also passionate, he would be very distressed, possibly dangerously. Forsooth read this thought and smiled again.

"He will hurt." Forsooth said.

"He is hurt now." Gawain shot back.

Forsooth took away the water and stood, shaking his head and sighing, but not sadly he said:

"He will hurt _himself."_


	5. Foiled attempts?

Galahad was empty. His heart felt empty and everything else about him felt the same. After speaking with Arthur he ran, not into the forest, not into the streets but to his own room, where he and Gawain had spent many long hours together. He laughed bitterly at himself for running _to_ instead of _from_ the memories. It was strange and a very unwise thing to do. When he entered the room he extinguished the fire in the hearth and lit only a candle. He slumped against the wall and closed his eyes. It was so silent and so comforting to be so alone, or was that misery? He could not tell. Misery loves company, is it not so? What confusion.

For a while Galahad was able to brood in silence until a strange feeling came over him. Someone was there. A presence that felt dangerous was looming nearby. He slowly opened his eyes. He was afraid, until he saw the face before him. The thin and worn face of another friend was staring at him in the shadows.

"Tristan, what are you doing here?" He grumbled at the other man.

"I am watching you." Tristan answered simply.

"Why?"

"Because you should not be left alone." He answered and sat down beside Galahad.

"What do you think I will do? Put an end to my misery in some way?"

Tristan only stared at him. Galahad could never stand that stare and he turned away from it.

"Perhaps I will." He said, looking at the dark stone wall across the room.

"It would be rather simple." He laughed bitterly. Before he could even understand what he had just said aloud he felt a weight lifted from his side. Tristan had removed his dagger and taken the knife he kept on his belt.

"I'll let you know when you can have these back." Tristan said, placing them on his own belt and settling beside him.

"I wouldn't have." Galahad said quietly.

"Perhaps." Tristan said and they fell into silence.

A while later Galahad spoke.

"Should you be with Gawain?" He asked.

"Bors is with him, I felt too concerned about you at the moment. Gawain is at least stable. You are on a rocking boat. I will not lose both of you because of this."


End file.
